


Tender Mercies

by billiethepoet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1496740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billiethepoet/pseuds/billiethepoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone needs a way to unwind and let go. A rough day makes Greg crave turning over control to someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Mercies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_xmasmurder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/gifts).



> Many thanks to HiddenLacuna and masked-alias for their fantastic beta work. 
> 
> For Monster.

Molly’s mobile lets out a soft trill, cracking the silence in her flat. It’s late. Far too late for anyone to be calling really. Dinner was hours ago; she’s even done the washing up and now relaxes in her softest pyjama pants and worn out t-shirt in front of the telly. Her hair is pulled up in a sloppy bun and there are only a handful of people she’d even answer the phone for in this state.

Two people. Well, maybe three. But one never calls anyway. 

Luckily for the late-night caller, he is one of the people she’d pick up the phone for at any hour. 

“Greg? Is everything okay?” 

There’s a charged paused. Like he doesn’t quite know how to answer that question. 

“Yeah, Molly. Nothing’s happened exactly. Well, not to me or, you know, the boys of Baker Street, or anything. Just… it’s just been a rough day.” 

Molly just hums in response. She knows what’s coming but he has to _ask_ for it. 

“So, um, could I come over?” 

She smiles to herself. _And there it is._ She’s tempted to say no. She probably would if he didn’t sound so absolutely dejected. She’s going to say yes. Obviously. But that doesn’t mean she can’t tease a little bit first. 

“It’s awfully late.”

“I know,” he’s quick to reply. “And I wouldn’t have called if I didn’t… well, if I didn’t need it.” 

Molly wasn’t going to say no before, but how could she say no to that anyway? “Okay. Are you nearby?” 

“Just a short tube ride. Give me 15 minutes?” 

“Okay. I’ll buzz you up when you get here.” 

Greg rings off with a breathy “thank you” and Molly pulls at her bun. Her hair tumbles down to her shoulders in waves. She could try to do something with it. Run a brush through it at least. Or change out of her jimjams. Even another pair of pyjamas would be better than these. They have a hole in the crotch and not even the sexy kind of hole in the crotch. 

But it’s not really worth the effort. Greg’s not one for presentation. He’s not coming because of what she looks like or how she’s dressed. He’s coming over because of what Molly can do for him. Worn out jimjams notwithstanding. 

Maybe she’ll brush her teeth though. Just to make sure there’s no spinach stuck in them from dinner.

***************

When she opens the door for Greg, he takes two long strides into the apartment and falls to his knees. She didn’t even have to ask for that one. But it’s not good for him to give too much too soon. It defeats the purpose of working together to get him _there_.

She lets him sit there for two ragged breaths before closing the door and coming to stand in front of him. “I didn’t order you down there.” 

“I know.” He keeps his eyes on the floor by her cotton candy-painted toes. “I just… I feel better here at the moment.” 

Molly lets it go. He directs more of this than he’s aware of anyway. She cards a hand through his silver hair. There’s something very exciting about having a man fifteen years her senior fall so gracefully to his knees for her. 

She scratches her nails along his scalp. “Caught a bad one today, huh?” 

“Yeah, bloody fucking mess.” He stretches his neck to push his head more deeply against the cup of her palm. “You see a lot of the same shit but it never seems to get to you.”

It’s not a question but she answers anyway. “I see some of it, yeah. And sometimes it bothers me. I just process it differently.” 

Greg hums, rocking his head back and forth in her palm. He just accepts her for what she is. Both this and the side of her that loves her cat, favours pink, and gets looked over by almost everyone. It’s refreshing to have someone take her seriously on both fronts. 

They started this while Sherlock was away. Greg was guilt-ridden and lonely, and spent too many nights gets sloshed on Molly’s couch. She snapped and ordered him down one day. He hit his knees and spent the better part of an hour with his face buried in her cunt. All in all, not a bad way to spend an evening. 

Greg needs taking care of, especially on nights like this. And Molly’s just the girl to handle it for him. 

She tugs on the short hairs at the back of his neck. Greg rolls his head back, baring his neck to Molly but keeping his eyes closed. 

“Stand up. Go into the bedroom and undress. I want you kneeling on the bed when I come in. Understand?” 

Greg only nods. 

“Tell me.” 

“Yes, miss.” 

“What’s your safeword?”

“Paddington.”

“Say it again.”

Greg lets out a long sigh, relaxing as Molly becomes harder. “Paddington.”

Molly smiles as Greg begins the slide into his surrender. She scratches again at the back of his head. “Good. Now go.” 

She steps back, denying further physical contact, as Greg rises to his feet and shuffles to her bedroom. He pushes the door nearly closed, so that only a crack remains open. Molly trained him to do that in previous scenes and she’s pleased he remembered. That would have to be rewarded. 

But rewards would come later. Now Molly takes her time; makes a cup of tea and sips at it. She doesn’t finish it. Her patience doesn’t run that deep. 

She leaves the tea behind and pushes open the bedroom door. She leaves it wide open, letting in light from the sitting room. Molly lives alone but there’s something very naughty feeling about fucking in front of an open door. 

Greg is right where she told him to be: naked and kneeling in the center of the bed. His head is bowed and his hands are clasped behind his back. She didn’t have to teach him that and she would love to know who did. His cock is soft but that’s not unusual. 

Molly moves to stand by the side of the bed. He’d left only her bedside reading light switched on and shadows play across his shoulders. She tosses her shirt to the ground, standing next to him with only her tatty pyjamas resting on her hipbones. Her breasts stand free and her nipples tighten in the cooler air. She palms one, squeezes, and then tweaks lightly at her nipple before addressing Greg. She’s not sure if he can make out what she’s doing to herself with his eyes facing the duvet but this part isn’t really for him anyway. She’s simultaneously feeding the ache in her breasts and building up the corresponding twinge in her clit for herself alone. The sight of the grey-silver hairs at the back of Greg’s neck doesn’t hurt either. 

She cups the back of that neck with the palm that just cupped her breast. “Come here.” 

He shuffles on his knees to the side of the bed without raising his head. She lets him rest there, just to breathe in and out again, before nudging his chin up in a silent command to look at her. 

Molly pulls his hands to her hips.“What do you want tonight, Greg?” 

He strokes his thumbs along the dips of her pelvis, but only to the top of her pyjamas and no further. He strokes back and forth. “Just to switch off for awhile, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can handle that for you.” Molly grips his chin with just enough force to keep him still and presses her mouth to his. His thumbs stop their up and down motion but his grip remains light. He knows better than to pull or press without permission. 

She starts the kiss slowly, tenderly, melting him into something that can be easily molded from the inside out. Greg opens his lips for her and she sucks and strokes until he begins to whimper. She slows down again, back to teasing him, with light licks and presses of her lips. Whimpers regress to ragged breaths before she lets him go. She nips his bottom lip as she pulls back and hears a grateful gasp for her trouble. 

He’s staring slightly up at her with deep brown eyes awaiting his next instruction. “Leave your hands where they are.” Molly applies pressure with a hand resting against the back of his neck, pulling him toward her breast. “Suck them.”

“Yes, Miss Hooper.” Greg only ever calls her that when they are together like this. It’s always Molly, Moll, or Molls in public. Or Dr. Hooper when introducing her to new colleagues. 

He rises up on his knees and licks his lips before descending on the peak of her right nipple. He sucks and flicks his tongue across the rising bud, then sucks harder. She keeps him there for several minutes as wetness grows in her cunt before pulling him toward her left breast. 

“Now the other one.” Greg likes the verbal reinforcement maybe more than the physical direction she gives him. He moves eagerly, reddened, spit stained lips glinting in the light. 

His assault on her left nipple is not as tentative. He starts with long, hard pulls and then presses the flat of his tongue against her for just a second before sucking again. 

Molly locks her hands over his, pinning them tight to her hips. It’s mostly to remind herself not to go back on her command for him to keep holding her there. Her breasts are small and can easily fit in the palm of his hand. She’d love to feel him cupping them as he lavishes attention on each breast, to feel the scratch of his nails on the side as he licks but she keeps his hands firmly in place. Greg surprises a moan out of her when he applies his teeth to sensitive skin. 

“Enough.” 

Greg sits back on his heels immediately and Molly rewards him with another hard kiss. When she pulls back, they’re both breathless. 

Molly slowly unties the drawstring of her pyjamas. “Take these off for me.” Her instruction is quiet this time but still commanding. 

Greg sinks his thumbs into the divot between her hips and the waistband of her trousers. He tugs, sliding them down just far enough to curl the rest of his fingers over the elastic to continue his work. He manages to tug them about two-thirds of the way down her thighs, the right side a little higher up than the left, before his position on the bed keeps him from finishing his task. Molly takes over and finishes the job for him. 

She’s not wearing knickers and Greg nearly sways into her bare flesh before he stops himself. She watches the minute movement and smiles at his control. 

Molly places a finger under his chin and redirects his gaze from the tuft of hair between her thighs back to her face. “You’re going to make me come with your tongue, then I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to work you over long and hard and you’re going to beg me to come. Understood?” 

Greg licks his lips and his voice is noticeably rougher than before. “Yes Miss Hooper.” 

“Good boy.” Her voice is warm with praise before it slides back into an order. “Now, flat on your back.” 

Greg is quick to comply, twisting his body so his head lies near the headboard. They’ve done this before too and he’s bowing to her preferences without being reminded. 

Molly crawls up his body, deliberately sliding her skin against his but avoiding his now hard cock. She maneuvers her knees over his shoulders, resting them by his ears. She grips the headboard and lowers herself down onto Greg’s eager face. 

He starts slowly, licking her up and down. She lets him set the pace in these early moments. They both know that soon enough Molly’s personality and position will take over and she will take what she needs from him. But, for now, she allows him to taste at his leisure. 

His tongue slides and strokes, working between her labia. She rocks her hips, just slightly, just enough to get a sample of the rhythm she wants to use a bit later. 

Molly presses down and Greg’s tongue goes deeper, thrusting into her. She gasps against the wiggling, wet heat as he fucks her. She rides his tongue for a few moments, enjoying the tension growing across her shoulders and the quivering of her thighs, before tilting her hips and redirecting his attention to her clit. 

Greg is quick to slide his tongue forward until he connects with the hard bud that Molly so eagerly grinds against his mouth. 

She loves the slow and steady tongue-fucking Greg always gives her, but this is what makes her see stars. The flick of his tongue, or the broadside stroke of it, lighting up all her nerves. It’s pure, decadent pleasure to ride his face like this. 

Her knuckles are turning white against against the headboard and Greg groans beneath her. Small beads of sweat have broken out along her lip and her forehead and Molly can feel herself hurtling toward the edge. She just needs a little extra push. 

“Greg, hands. Grab my arse.” Her voice is breathless and much higher pitched than when this started. 

Greg still obeys as if it was her sternest command. His hands are warm and large. Large enough to cup a buttock in each palm as he squeezes and flexes his fingers against her straining muscles. 

Molly grinds hard against Greg’s tongue, which is still doing it’s best to swipe across her clit as she rocks and moans above him. Her thighs tighten closer and closer to Greg’s ears, so he licks harder and faster. His hands pull up and out, spreading her slightly. 

With that simple pressure, Molly is coming. Hips shooting forward while Greg holds on tightly to keep her against his mouth and hands. She cries out loudly, never one for restraint in her peak moments, as her muscles tighten and she releases a warm gush across Greg’s mouth. 

She stays where she is, panting and shaking and coming down, while Greg slows his tongue to gentle kisses. She can feel his soft exhalations puffing out his nose and through the tuft of hair between her thighs. It’s reassuring that she’s not suffocating him but she’s not sure she would move even if she should. 

Greg keeps his tongue moving in slow circles across her sensitized flesh, dipping in and out as he pleases, while Molly recovers. His hands rest against her arse but no longer squeeze or tease her toward orgasm. Just rest there, keeping her grounded and warm. 

Molly lets him keep licking, keep squirming and groaning underneath her, until he’s worked the sensitive feeling in her clit back into a low flame. Until she goes from feeling boneless and sated to wanting to bend him over and fuck him.

Which is exactly what she plans to do. 

She rolls away, collapsing on her back next to him in the bed. Greg turns his head to look at her. His lips and cheeks are shiny and Molly can’t help but reach out to stroke the pad of her thumb across his bottom lip. 

“You did very well.” Her finger catches a bit on the corner of his mouth before she moves up to his upper lip. “You can choose what you want from the bottom drawer of my nightstand.”

Greg’s smile is instantaneous and mischievous. He looks like a naughty teenager and Molly has to school her features not to laugh at him. She pushes at his shoulder instead.

“Go on. Pick what you want before I change my mind.” 

He rolls away, giving her a spectacular view of his arse. Plusher than it looks in his everyday trousers. 

Molly keeps three toys for occasions like these in her nightstand drawer. The first is a pretty standard toy: long and thick with narrow black straps that hold it tight to her hips. The second is longer but thinner with a bulbous end that hooks around Molly’s pelvic bone to press against her G-spot while she thrusts instead of straps to hold it in place. The last strap-on is thicker, almost more like a plug. She can’t thrust very deeply with it but it stretches her partner wide on those short strokes. She’s used all three of them on Greg before. He generally doesn’t seem to favour one more than the others, and neither does Molly, so it’s a shot in the dark trying to guess which he’ll choose. 

He rolls back over with the strapless option in hand. He has a bottle of lube clutched in the other hand. She didn’t tell him to get that, not specifically, but she’ll ignore the assumption on his part for the sake of expediency. 

She takes the dildo from his outstretched hand and begins to rub the end across her labia. She nods toward the lube. “Up on your knees. Let me see you get yourself ready.”

Greg crawls to the foot of the bed and turns to face Molly. He rises up high on his knees before squeezing a large dollop of lube across his right middle and index fingers. Molly begins working the end of her fake cock into her cunt, just stroking it in and out but not hooking it in place quite yet, while Greg reaches behind himself. She watches his face, his eyes slipping closed as he penetrates himself. He looks positively blissful. 

He keeps his hand steady and bends his knees. It takes a few moments to get his fingers worked properly in but Molly can see the exact second that he sinks all the way down on both of them. He bites his lower lip and smiles. He rocks back and forth and rises up and down, fucking himself on his right hand.  
Greg adds a third finger and Molly works the shorter, thicker end of her cock fully inside herself and slides it into place. She adds a streak of lube across the bright purple silicone and strokes up and down, in time with the motion of Greg’s hips. 

She feels absolutely naughty stroking her cock while Greg opens himself in front of her. “You like this don’t you? Fucking yourself for me?” 

“Yes, miss.” Greg groans and rocks his hips against his hand. 

“I should get a cock with a suction cup on the end so I can watch you fuck yourself on the kitchen floor while I take my tea.”

Greg’s cock jerks as squeezes his eyes shut and grinds down on his hand. Molly hopes he’s enjoying that mental image as much as she is. Honestly, she is tempted to do it. 

She lets him thrust a few more times before she rises and stands next to the bed. She crooks a finger and Greg pulls his fingers free and drops to all fours. He crawls to the edge of the bed and lets his head hang while she runs her fingertips through his hair. She gives him a moment to catch his breath before tapping him lighting on the back of the head. 

“Turn around, and hold yourself open for me.” 

Greg turns and shuffles back so his knees rest on the edge of the bed. He arches his spine, tilting his pelvis up as Molly slides her small hands up his thighs. The fine hairs on his legs tickle her palms as she moves up and up to grip his hips. Greg tips forward, twisting to rest his weight on one shoulder, and reaches back with both hands. He grasps his cheeks firmly, turning the tips of his fingers white, and spreads them wide. 

Molly rubs her thumb across Greg’s perineum, pressing into the sensitive skin. “What do you want, Greg?”

“I want you to fuck me, miss.” Greg is near breathless and trembling in front of her. 

She skims her thumb up and across Greg’s hole, barely exerting any pressure there. “Beg me.”

Greg moans into her pale pink sheets before he manages to get any words out. “Yes, please. Please fuck me. I want your cock, miss. Please.” Molly works another generous smudge of lube into Greg’s hole while he begs for more. 

She lines up the head of her cock, wet and slick, against him. “You’re not to come until I tell you to. Understand?” Now it’s Molly that’s breathless, the raised ridges at the base of her cock rubbing against her clit as she pushes forward into Greg’s ready body. 

By the time Molly’s worked the entire length of her cock into Greg’s arse, he’s dropped his hands down to support himself and is panting into the bed. She fucks him slowly, rocking in and out so that he can feel every inch as she moves. The head of this particular cock is slim and smooth but she makes sure it catches on the edge of his hole, spreading it as widely as she can, every time she pulls back. The thrusting causes the end of the cock deep inside her to press against her G-spot. Each time she ends up flush against Greg’s arse, the pressure causes her to see tiny white stars. She can feel the orgasm building deep within her core. It will be different than coming against Greg’s mouth. It will be longer and more intense. More like the building up of a bonfire than a fireworks display. 

She’s pulled away from her concentration on keeping the pace slow and steady by Greg’s voice. “Please, miss. Harder. I need- I need it harder. Faster. Please.” 

There’s a fine sheen of sweat across his back and his fringe is sticking up from where he’s pressed it against the sheets. She can tell he wants to push himself back, to fuck himself on her cock, and to take his own cock in hand but he’s holding back. And all because she hasn’t told him he’s allowed to do either of those things. The thought makes Molly’s clit throb where she grinds it against the base of her cock. 

She pulls out, nearly all the way, and excruciatingly slowly. She gives them both a moment to catch their breath, just waiting there with the head of her cock spreading Greg’s hole. 

“Remember, you asked for this.” She wraps a hand around his shoulder and using her grip as leverage to pull herself forward. She slams her cock deep into Greg’s arse. 

He howls, throwing his head back. There’s a litany of “yes, yes, yes, please, yes” as Molly continues to fuck him fast and hard. She’s not sure he’d be able to keep himself up on his hands and knees if she weren’t holding him at the hip and shoulder. Every thrust, every cry of intense pleasure torn from Greg’s throat, drives Molly closer to orgasm. 

Her palms are sweaty and slipping against Greg’s equally damp skin. She knows she can’t hold on much longer like this and, judging by how eagerly Greg is rocking back to meet her thrusts, he’s not going to last very long either. 

Molly slows and drops her hand from his hip, stretching around to take firm hold of his cock. She doesn’t stroke, doesn’t let him thrust into her fist. Just holds him there.

“Do you want to come, Greg?”

“Please, miss.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes. I want to come. Please let me come.”

She gives him a firm stroke, root to tip, as she sinks all the way in. “Remember to ask before you come.” 

Molly picks up speed again, timing her thrusts in counterpoint to the pulls on Greg’s cock. Each stroke causes his spine to round up and his breath to hitch in his throat. He’s no longer moaning, too far gone for even that. She can feel his cock take on that last little bit of hardness against her palm. 

Cataloguing the sights and sounds of Gregs undoing, of his fall over the edge and away from everything that pushed him to her tonight, takes Molly right to her own precipice. She rocks against the pressure of her cock seated inside her and grinds against the ridges pressed to her clit. She’ll wait for him, but it never hurts to prolong the moment as long as she can. 

It only takes a few more hard snaps of Molly’s hips before Greg is crying out. “May I come, miss? Please. Please. Please, may I come? Oh Christ.”

On another night, she may have said no. She may have pulled away completely and made him calm down before starting all over again. But that’s for a night when he didn’t come looking for distraction and release, or for comfort. 

“Yes. Come on Greg. Come for me.” Even as she says it, she feels the first stirring of her own climax roll in her gut. This one is deep and intense. It passes through her like waves crashing on a beach, each one leaving her more breathless than the last. 

She keeps her cock buried deep in Greg’s arse as he spasms and spurts across her hand. His knees go out from under him and she follows him down to the bed. Molly lies over Greg’s back and presses hot, dry kisses to his spine. He’s not a large man, but he’s strong and she knows he can take her weight. 

Greg begins to laugh as she works her way up to kiss his neck. She lets him laugh until it’s out of his system. 

“Feel better?” She’s kissed up to his ear now and feels him shiver. 

“Much. I needed that.”

Molly presses one more kiss to the sensitive skin behind his ear before easing her cock out of his arse. She then has the delicate task of easing it out of herself before tossing it on the nightstand. She’ll clean it, and the sheets, later. For now, she curls back up on the bed, spooning Greg where he’s rolled to his side. 

She wraps her arms around his middle and scratches her short nails through the hair on his chest. He never stays long, but Molly’s always sure to touch him as much as she can. He always leans toward her and purrs like a cat. He would probably be a cuddler in any other circumstance. Maybe she’ll get him there one day. 

He lays there longer than he ever has before. So long that his breath has calmed completely and Molly thinks he may be falling asleep. She slows the motion of her hands and presses more tightly against him. She’d let him stay, if he wanted. 

“I should go. Christ, it’s late. I’m sorry Molls.” 

Her first reflex is to let go, to pull back, but she keeps her arms locked around him and her cheek against his shoulder blade. “You could stay.” 

There’s only a brief pause, but it’s enough for Molly to feel the jump in Greg’s chest when he sucks in a shocked breath. “Nah, I should head back to mine.” 

Molly slides under the covers to watch Greg get dressed. If he’s going to do it here, she might as well appreciate the show. He doesn’t bother with his pants and just balls them up and stuffs them in a jacket pocket. The tie goes in the other pocket and Molly can’t help but smile. She should get up, put on her dressing gown, and show him out. But she’s exhausted and the bed is so warm. Fucking a man good and proper is hard work. 

Greg kisses the top of her head. “I’d let myself out but you need to lock the door behind me.” 

“The building door is locked.”

“Not good enough. Listen to the police on this one.” 

She doesn’t argue when he takes that tone, just slips into the dressing gown he’s handing her and follows him to the front door. 

Greg stops with his hand on the knob. “Listen, next time I’ll call earlier and maybe I can stay the night then, yeah?” 

He’s nervous and Molly has never seen such an endearing expression on a grown man’s face in all her life. Her slow smile is automatic and unstoppable. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”


End file.
